


Wrong Side of Heaven

by Kayani_Iriel



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Kinky sex, M/M, Shameless Smut, Worgen, no betas we die like WOMEN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:42:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27305053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayani_Iriel/pseuds/Kayani_Iriel
Summary: The High King and the Gilnean King often battle over the best way to accomplish things in council meetings. Sometimes those arguments take place over dinner, and progress to the bedroom.
Relationships: Genn Greymane/Varian Wrynn
Comments: 9
Kudos: 25





	Wrong Side of Heaven

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saltsoda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltsoda/gifts).



> Shameless smut, with Genn in worgen form. If that's not your thing, click away now. 
> 
> Gifted to my dear friend.

They're arguing over dinner about troop movements. It's hardly the first meal Varian has invited Genn to that's dissolved into argument; anymore it's a weekly occurrence.

"You can't throw troops into the unknown. You need information," he says for the third or fourth time.

"We don't have it nor do we have time to get it," is Varian's counter, complete with a fist on the table.

Genn's temper has been steadily rising the entire time, to the point he's set down cutlery and won't pick up a wineglass for fear of breakage. "It's foolish. You know better."

Varian's eyes are dark, pinned on him. "You think me foolish? What would you do?"

"I'd gather intelligence. There's a finite supply of soldiers. These are men we're talking about."

The High King stands suddenly, his chair scraping back. "Men. What would you know of being a man, dog?"

Genn's on his feet, nose to nose with him before Varian can blink. "I am as much a man as you. The curse scarcely changes that."

This remark earns him a smirk from the brown haired man, and he reaches out, running a finger along the older man's collar. "Becoming a little heated? We could stop this nonsense. We'll never agree."

Genn leans into the touch, even with anger in his veins. He's loathe to deny him. One finger on his collar becomes two, then Varian's hands are at his shirt buttons, undoing them, helping him shrug out of the fine blue linen. There’s a pleased sound as a bite mark is exposed on his chest, not quite hidden in the thatch of grey hair. Genn remembers Varian leaving it on him some nights before, how satisfied he was.

“Bedroom,” Varian commands, and he follows him even though the obedience grates. He watches the muscular form leading the way, enjoying the sight. He’ll enjoy it more when the man is naked and sweating in the bed. His cock hardens at the thought, and, distracted, he shuts the door with more force than is necessary.

It rattles on its hinges, causing Varian to turn around. He leers at Genn as he works his shirt over his head. “Temper, temper. Tamed pets should be more mindful.”

It’s enough to have him snarling, clenching fists with claws as he fights for control, to not morph into his worgen form right there. Varian has turned to toss his clothing aside, and is feigning indifference. His boots, as always, somehow end up on top of the pile.

“Are you going to stand there all night, wolf?” Varian turns his back, pushes the bedclothes back, and settles into the middle of the enormous bed, touching his cock idly, all the while not looking over.

“Varian,” he growls out, half benediction, half curse. He licks his lips, the points of fangs scratching his tongue. He toes off his shoes, pushing them under a chair, and fumbles at his trousers. It won’t do to rip the fine fabric in his anger. His frustration is at a boiling point when he finally works them off, along with his underclothes, and stalks towards the bed.

“At last. I thought you were never going to make it. Come here,” Varian pats the bed as if Genn’s a favored hound, coaxing another snarl out of the worgen.

“Varian,” he says again, more warning in his tone.

Dark blue eyes flash with amusement and challenge. “Too much for you? Perhaps you need to give in to your darker side tonight.”

“You know what happens when I do,” Genn cautions, standing by the bed. “Are you so sure you want that?”

“Perhaps that’s _exactly_ what I want tonight.”

The admission catches him off guard, but only for a moment. He closes his eyes and gives up control to the wolf inside, letting the change happen. Bones shift and lengthen, his face changes, muzzle and fangs replacing lips and blunt teeth. Fur sprouts everywhere, insulating him, and the process warms him considerably. He flexes hands tipped with sharp claws, and lets out a soft huff of relief. The anger at his earlier argument with Varian has receded some, replaced with need.

“Better now?” Varian’s voice is low, husky, and Genn can hear the need in it, smell it in the air, something he hadn’t bothered to notice before.

“Yes.” His voice is a growl, deep and gravelly, and unlike his usual smooth tones, but he sees Varian close his eyes and shiver in pleasure at it.

Climbing on the bed, he carefully settles in next to the warrior, leisurely drawing his claws up the man’s abdomen and chest, leaving light pink marks in his wake. He’s always careful in this form, never hard enough to leave lasting scratches, or worse, draw blood. He’s not sure Varian would mind, but he would.

The dark haired king arches into his touch, emitting a groan as those claws encircle his throat, and Genn squeezes. He hasn’t stopped touching his cock the entire time, and it glistens, covered in pre-cum, as he lazily strokes himself. Genn’s mouth waters at the sight, his own erection hot and hard between his legs.

He leans down, running his tongue along one hip, working inward through dark hair. Varian’s hand falters, then moves away, and he’s allowed to move in, licking his way closer. Above him there’s the sound of a strangled breath as he makes his first lick, one long stripe from the base to tip, taking it all in: the firm cock covered in soft skin, the musky scent of Varian, the salty taste of him. He closes his eyes, savoring it for a long moment, then licks again.

Hands come to rest on his head, as Varian murmurs, “Genn,” and clutches at the short fur. He allows himself to be guided, takes the other man gently in his mouth, sucking as best he can with a long muzzle. The man beneath him shakes as he works his cock, letting out deep moans and gasps, fingers still fisted in fur.

Genn grips the other man’s hips lightly in his clawed hands, reveling in the flex of muscles as he licks. He aches with need, with the desire to bury himself deep and just thrust, until they’re both spent and useless and locked together, but he stays where he is. It pays to be patient, to wait the other king out, and then he’ll get what he wants.

Finally, Varian pulls him away with a tug and a gasp of “Enough,” and he’s forced to move, to enjoy licking and nibbling his way up his lover’s body. He draws a line through the dark hair as he works his way up, enjoying the muttered curses as his tongue hits a ticklish spot. He relents, moving to stare deeply into the other man’s eyes.

Varian stares back, the anger in his eyes having given way to lust, pupils blown wide. His hair has come out of its distinctive tail and lies across the pillow like a fan, haloing about him. With the scars across his face, and the smile on his lips, he looks like a dark god temping Genn to fall from grace for him.

And for him, for the pleasure they share, he would do it. Again and again.

Varian hooks one strong leg around Genn’s hip, opening himself to him in an invitation that the older man takes, kneeling between his lover’s legs. Varian reaches down, fingers slick with oil, touching himself, mindful that Genn’s claws are ineffective here. It feels like an eternity but is only a short while before he pulls away.

Genn wastes no time, entering him smoothly, careful not to go too fast. They couple frequently enough that Varian is ready for him, but not so often that he can lose control. And in his current form, he’s larger, which presents its own problems. He mustn’t break the fragile High King.

“More,” Varian demands, moving his other leg, wrapping himself around Genn’s narrow, furry hips. His dark eyes gleam. “I can take more, but can you give more, wolf?”

Genn snarls, bringing his face down close to his lover’s, and thrusts his hips. The throaty groan he pulls from the man spurs him on, and soon he’s thrusting deep, keeping his pace steady. Varian is hot and tight, and sets Genn’s nerves ablaze with sensation. He knows if he’s strict with how he takes the man, they can go for some time, and he’s not about to waste the opportunity to enjoy his lover in worgen form.

He reaches out, grabbing Varian’s wrists, pinning them above his head, on top of the pillow. The other king struggles, but the moan he makes when Genn grips him hard enough to bruise and rolls his hips is enough to signal he’s enjoying himself. With his free hand, the worgen pulls one of Varian’s legs loose from his waist, hitching it higher, towards his shoulder.

“Oh yes, like that,” Genn hears as he moves. His breathing is labored, not from exertion, but from lust. The scent of sex has permeated the room, filling every breath. With Varian’s musk, it’s a heady combination, and one he enjoys more than roast meat or fine wine. He breathes it in, letting it restore him after a long day of anger and argument.

Varian's hands flex where he's holding them in place, not quite an effort to break free, but enough of a struggle that it's delicious. "More," he moans, bucking his hips against Genn's furred ones. Genn is only too happy to oblige, pounding into him harder, steady pace beginning to falter. Need is overtaking the desire to prolong the moment, and he’s willing to let it win. He flexes his claws against Varian's hip, eliciting a groan. Encouraged, he bends, licking at the other man's throat, encouraging him to bare it to him.

Varian does, head pressed into the pillow. Genn takes his throat in his jaws, fangs on those delicious points, where all it would take is one bite, and squeezes.

It's enough, and Genn thrusts deep, feeling himself knot inside the other man as he climaxes. He resists the urge to howl, instead letting out a quiet snarl, mindful they could be overheard.

Varian has no such concerns, and comes with a shout, back arching off the bed as he covers his stomach and chest in signs of his own orgasm. His wrists flex hard enough that Genn loosens his grip, letting him get free, if he wished. He doesn’t.

The men ride their pleasure together, breathing heavy, heads pressed close As they come down from the moment, Genn releases Varian’s leg, letting him move, to slip it around his furred waist. He shuts his eyes, trying to regain control, and the High King’s strong arms come down around him, holding him close. Shifting slightly, he tucks his head down on his lover’s chest.

They stay in that embrace for what feels like an hour, although the time is unknown, but long enough for the sweat on Varian to dry and for the come on his stomach, now in Genn’s fur as well, to become sticky. There will be a bath soon, a quiet affair in the lavish tub, where they’ll keep near each other, with soap and washcloths, and then dry off with soft fluffy towels. Genn will have to shift back, but he doesn’t mind, it’s easier to stay with Varian as a human anyway.

“You know I agree with you, right?” Varian murmurs, voice drowsy.

“Hmm?”

“We need intelligence. I’m not sure we have enough time to gather it. A delay could cost us.”

Genn’s brain is slow to catch up. “Have you been thinking about this the entire time?”

“No, it just occurred to me.”

He takes a moment, then chuckles. It’s an odd sound from a worgen’s mouth. “You are something else.”

Varian combs a hand through his fur. “So you’ve told me. Would you rather I was someone else?”

“Not at all. I appreciate you for who you are.”

“Good. I’m too old to change.”

“As if you could be anyone but your irascible self,” Genn snorts. He realizes the knot has gone down, and slips out of Varian, climbing out of bed. With a stretch, he shifts back into his human form, shrinking, his muscles weaken, face reform to smaller lips and blunt teeth. A small ache blooms inside at this weaker self, but he pushes it down.

Varian gets up, tilting his head towards the bathing chamber. “Come, you old wolf. Let’s clean up and sleep.”

Genn follows obediently, but there’s no anger in him now, just contentment. Varian may tease him, provoke him by treating him like a pet, but his lover is closer to the truth than he’ll ever realize.

And after nights like tonight, he’s at peace with it.


End file.
